


I'll Be There

by barricadebabes, ratedgrandr



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/M, Friends AU, M/M, Modern AU, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barricadebabes/pseuds/barricadebabes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratedgrandr/pseuds/ratedgrandr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In modern day New York City, no one would have expected such a diverse group of people to come together and form such strong bonds. Modern Friends AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One With the Lark

**Author's Note:**

> So I am awful at summaries. Sigh. But! Most of the tagged characters will come in next chapter, and most of the ships will start showing up in a few more chapters. Gotta do some characterization first, yeah?
> 
> Everything had been fine and dandy in Eponine’s life until a very familiar face shows up at saturday morning breakfast. Things could have been smoothed over easily, until her genius of a friend Marius suggests this stranger from the past move in with Eponine. -nikkistrikesagain

Eponine inherits apartment 20 the summer after she turns 20. It had originally belonged to Mrs. O’Grady, the closest thing she had to a grandmother, but the woman bought a house outside of the city that summer and didn’t want to go through the hassle of putting it up for sale. A few jokes had been made, and the apartment had been handed over to Eponine after some convincing, since the girl didn’t like accepting charity.

But she’d lived with her parents for twenty years, and by god, it was high time she moved out. So she quit her job as a bartender at her parents’ nightclub and decided to go to college to get a degree. She was worth something and she deserved to be happy. That was the last thing she’d told her father before storming out of his life in a flurry of boxes, hot summer breezes and long forgotten memories.

She’d loved her papa until he hit her. That was when their relationship had crashed and burned.

And it was when she’d told herself she was worth more than he made her out to be. And that had bubbled inside her, a festering, aching wound that she had ignored for too long, since she had been sixteen and forced to work at the bar. So Eponine jumped at the opportunity to get a place on her own and start her life over. Who wouldn’t? Nights were long at the diner and she worked more than she did anything else, but it was worth it when she got that degree and could finally apply for a job she’d actually care about.

Marius moved in across the hall the summer she caught the stove on fire. She remembered that day very well, because firstly the stove was flaming, and secondly, Marius had helped her put it out.

Marius, with his kind eyes, pretty lips and insanely intelligent words. She liked him, more than she wanted to admit, and she admired him from afar. They were friends before he moved in across from her and she’d told him about the apartment.

The line of where their friendship started was blurry. If you asked Marius, he’d swear he met her at the Thenardiers’ bar four years ago.

If you asked Eponine, she’d swear she met him at a coffee shop where he’d paid for her coffee when she came up a few dollars short. 

Marius doesn’t remember that incident.

Either way, they were close. Marius would easily tell anyone Eponine was one of his very best friends, and he could tell her anything. Eponine would easily tell anyone that Marius was amazing, and the longing in her voice was so evident it made you just want to wrap her in your arms for the loss she didn’t realize she suffered.

Courfeyrac swears Marius is blind.

And its thanks to him Marius is even around, really. They had been friends for ages, him and Marius, went to boarding school together, and even though Eponine swears up and down she told Marius about Courf’s apartment being available, he’d been nagging Marius as soon as his last room mate moved out.

Montparnasse had moved out only two months ago. He dated Eponine for a while, and when Courf found out that the man emotionally abused Ponine, he’d kicked him out.

Eponine thought it was just a disagreement between the Courfeyrac and Montparnasse, but she is blind in her own kinds of ways.

Enjolras moved in long before either Courfeyrac or Eponine did, and him and Ponine became friends fast, just as him and Courfeyrac did. He was quite a few years older than Eponine, but he was charming in his own respect and he spoke fanciful words that won her over quickly. 

He was a law student when they met, but only recently graduated and got a job with a firm doing paper work and picking up the slack the others leave behind. He’s too qualified for his job but is too humble to admit it, ‘and everyone needs to earn their place in this world,’ his bosses tell him. Everyone knows that’s bull shit and the rest of them are just envious, but Enjolras says it will happen in due time, and they believe him.

They always believe him, it’s part of his magnetism. He draws people in, pulls them close and enchants them with tales of a better world. Everyone loves Enjolras, and they are also secretly really afraid of him.

Grantaire just came to be purely out of thin air. He went to school with Enjolras and had a class with him, and after seeing Enjolras correct the professor and make colorful speeches one time too many, the drunk had decided to get to know the golden haired god who walked among mortals.

‘Taire and Enjolras became close friends fast, and none of the others were really sure… how. They fought more than Eponine’s parents and had literally nothing in common, but it wasn’t unusual to see them sitting at the Musain - a coffee shop below the apartments – Enjolras reading the New York Times, Grantaire with his head in the other man’s lap and his legs tossed over the couch.

When they were silent they were perfect for each other. It was words that ruined it all and caused a chasm between the two bodies that moved so fluidly as one when quiet was present. 

And that was how they all came to live on the fifth floor in those stuffy New York apartments right beside central park.

Today, all five friends sat in the Musain. Grantaire nursed a black coffee he’d turned Irish quite some time ago, while the rest of them all sipped on frilly lattes and cappuccinos. It was 11 o’clock on a Saturday, and it was habit to be here, really. Enjolras had his nose in a book – Frued, Eponine noticed with misplaced interest – and Grantaire was staring off out the window, as if the snow that was falling was offending him greatly. Marius was thoughtfully fussing with something on his ipad, probably work related, and Eponine had her nose shoved so far in The Princess Bride they were positive she wouldn’t be swayed by anything other than breakfast being served. Courfeyrac’s appearance on Saturday morning brunches was random; sometimes he showed up, sometimes he showed up with a woman in tow, and usually he just slept through them.

Today it was the latter, and Katie was sleeping through the meeting, too. No one actually knew Katie, but Marius knew she’d stayed the night, and no one wanted anymore details aside from that.

When the Musain’s bell chimed, no one thought anything of it. When a voice resembling a lark’s – so sweet and innocent and beautiful – pierced through the shop, two heads shot up: Eponine’s, and Marius’s.

Immediately Eponine found the source of the voice and what seemed to be a physical shudder ran through her. Marius was close behind her, but the look he got on his face was something akin to the face one would make if they were getting punched in the stomach.

“It can’t be…” Eponine mumbled as she dropped her book, pages down to keep her place, and stood up to get a better view. Grantaire chuckled darkly.

“Eponine, you look positively offended!” he smirked and took a long sip of his coffee. 

The brunette plopped back into her seat hurriedly and held her book up before her face, but it was too late; she’d been spotted.

The blonde at the counter let out a noise that sounded a bit like a mix between a squal and a laugh, and was breaking through their guarded circle before it was too late. “Eponine!” She cried as she threw her arms around the thin girl, crushing Eponine’s book against her face. 

Eponine looked infuriated, and Marius looked enchanted.

“Good to see you, Cosette,” ‘Ponine mumbled against the pages of the book. Finally the girl named Cosette dropped her arms to her sides and stood back from Eponine.

“Well, you look positively wonderful! How have you been?” Cosette had gorgeous blue eyes that took up about half of her face; the other half was made up of a smile any supermodel would envy. Long blonde curls framed her angelic face, and she was dressed entirely too nicely for 11 o’clock on a Saturday, Eponine thought.

Ponine stood, fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt. She felt so much more self conscious than ever with Cosette’s beautiful little self standing so close to her, and she could feel all eyes on the two of them. “I’ve been good… It’s been a while hasn’t it?” She asked. 

This caused Cosette to positively beam and nod. “Yes, far too long! And, oh… it’s so rude of me! I should have introduced myself!” Cosette looked entirely too excited as she introduced herself to the boys. Grantaire placed a sarcastic kind of kiss upon her hand which got a bright laugh to leave her rose red lips, and Enjolras made do with a hand shake.

Marius was frozen in his seat, eyes glue upon the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. When she got to him, Marius hurriedly pushed himself out of his seat and awkwardly bowed over her head before releasing it. His cheeks were flushed a bright red, one that put the shade of his hair to shame, and Grantaire was positively beaming at his friend’s discomfort. “Cosette, that’s Marius…” Eponine introduced, for Marius seemed to be having trouble with his words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cosette,” he finally managed. Eponine rolled her eyes, but could feel her heart sinking lower and lower into her chest. The expression on Marius’s face was completely beautiful… but his affections weren’t directed towards her and that was gut wrenching.

Eponine broke the awkward silence with a flat question. “What are you doing in the city, then? I thought you were still living in Aurora?”

The blonde shook her head as she accepted the coffee and plopped down onto the couch beside Grantaire. She reminded Eponine a bit of a child, sitting on the edge of her seat and tilted forward, her eyes wide in excitement as she sipped at her coffee. “Non, my father and I moved to the city only recently. He got a job here, and I’m trying to get on with the Ballet corps.”

Marius looked utterly captivated by every word Cosette had to say; Eponine looked more and more sour the more Cosette spoke. “Speaking of the city… Do you know of anyone in need of a room mate?” Her eyes darted across the boys, stopping for a second longer on Marius before she blushed and turned back to Eponine. “I think it’s high time I move out from my father’s house…” she frowned slightly and looked hopefully back towards Eponine once more. 

“No. Nope, none of us need –“ Eponine’s words were interrupted.

“Ponine has a spare bedroom!” Marius volunteered, looking utterly thrilled with his suggestion. Internally, Ponine was screaming. But she held her composture and just smiled and nodded.

“I do, but… rent is high, the place is old and the pipes creak. I can’t imagine you’d want to live there.”

“Oh, Ponine! It would be just like our days back in Aurora again!” Cosette said breathlessly as she clapped her hands together. “If you don’t mind that is! I wouldn’t want to barge in on you and your life, but it would be so convenient, and…”

To this very day, Eponine swore Cosette was a hypnotist who enchanted her with those damn big blue eyes that day. How could she say no to the blonde girl when she looked at her with such an expression.

Rolling her eyes and sighing in exasperation, Eponine nodded. “Alright, you can have the spare room, but… Well, you can’t be angry if you wake up one day and Jehan is curled up next to you. He claims that room as his, even if he isn’t around often enough to live there.” Marius looked absolutely triumphant as Eponine sunk lower into her chair and held her cup out towards Grantaire. The curly haired man positively snickered as he removed a flask from his coat pocket and added some whiskey to Ponine’s coffee.

Worse things could be happening, she reminded herself. She could still be stuck with her parents or living on the streets. So what if her beautiful, blonde best friend reappeared to live with her? Marius would get over himself, and everything would be fine. Just absolutely fine.


	2. The One With Everyone Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Les Amis make some new F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

After Cosette, everyone else just sort of follows. It feels to Enjolras as if he blinked and missed the exact moment when his small band of neighbors became a heap of boisterous companions. Or friends. “Friends” is a good word to describe what they are, right? He isn’t sure. He’s never let himself become so intimate with that many people. But at least he is learning that with this band of oddballs, it isn’t too uncomfortable.

The first one to join their group after Cosette is someone with whom Enjolras has long been familiar with. His name is Combeferre and they’ve known each other since they are young boys building pillow forts to hide from their mothers and the bogeyman. Once Combeferre calls him to share the news that he’s be moving to New York to begin med school, Enjolras wastes no time in recommending him to the landlady as the best possible tenant for the apartment directly underneath Courf’s. His charm almost gets the job done but it isn’t until Madame H. meets Combeferre in person that she is convinced he would take good care of the apartment. Two weeks later she gives him the manager position at Café Musain for the very same reason. She is right; he is a natural born caregiver.

Combeferre pays attention to everything and everyone. And he makes sure they are all ok. He is the one that read over Marius’ papers and makes breakfast for everyone on the weekends. And he’s going to make a great doctor one day because he is genuinely concerned with the well-being of others. Especially those Enjolras cares about.

 

He always makes sure Grantaire eats regularly and drinks something other than Jack Daniels, which everyone is secretly grateful for. Except for Grantaire himself, that is. He tends to stare appraisingly at Combeferre when he talks to Enjolras or if Grantaire believes no one is looking, forgetting that Enjolras never misses anything.

 

Musichetta is the reason they have to add three more chairs to Combeferre’s Pancake Sundays. She is the first person Combeferre hired at the Musain and probably the best barista they have. Pretty soon she knows all of Combeferre’s friends by name and has memorized their regular orders. This apparently entitles her to the right to join in conversations with advice or occasionally pinch Enjolras’ cheeks. The first time she had done that everyone had fallen silent, expecting some indignant remark from him. Then Enjolras actually smiled and swatted her hand away. Still, no one else dared to cuddle their stone leader except her.

 

Her ready embrace, blue work apron, and the way she always slips Courfeyrac an extra cookie or banana nut muffin reminds Enjolras of Wendy, the girl who played at being mother to the Lost Boys. Her boys would indeed be lost without her, although he doubted that Wendy would walk around smacking people upside the head with rolled up newspapers when they forgot to use coasters. Seriously, the obsession that woman has with cleanliness is truly astounding.

 

When Joly and Bossuet begin coming by the café at the end of the day to pick her from work, it becomes clear why Musichetta needed order in her life. And why she insists on carrying around two bottles of hand sanitizer and a small First Aid kit at all times.

 

 For starters, Joly cannot go a week without claiming to be running a fever or possibly afflicted with skin cancer. He is not. Joly is also a medical student, and knows Combeferre from one of their classes. At first Enjolras feels that a man so uncomfortable with illnesses shouldn’t be considering a career that exposed him to so many germs. Then he considers that Joly’s motivation might be that he wanted to heal the world. That would be very like Joly, who is every bit as kind and compassionate as his two lovers, but smiled more. He is actually the most cheerful man Enjolras had ever met. The only time they’ve seen him without a grin on his face is one day where Pontmercy happened to mention he feels he may be coming down with a cold. Usually he is gentle and surprisingly wise. It is a good thing that like Musichetta, he is constantly on his toes. He does, after all, live with Bossuet.

 

Bossuet is a law student and probably the unluckiest guy in the world. Not that Enjolras believes in luck, but he did have to admit that if it existed, Bossuet had received more than his helping of the bad kind. He is constantly knocking over tables, walking into telephone poles, and sending very personal and intimate texts to the wrong phone numbers. But Enjolras does not like to think about that occasion. Overall, Bossuet does not mind laughing at his mistakes. He’s happy just to make everyone smile with his stories and although Enjolras does not understand him at all, he likes Bossuet. And his bedmates.

 

The three are inseparable in the minds of their friends. When they are together, there is always someone for Musichetta to care for, someone to calm Joly, and some to make Bossuet feel lucky. To watch them try to squeeze onto Eponine’s too small loveseat is like watching a constellation. Each star is individually brilliant but together they form a magnificent image. Or something like that. Enjolras has never quite understood constellations. He does not know how people can look at the sky and see a bear of Greek heroes. Just like he didn’t know how one glance could change your world. One glace could be all you need to fall in love. Damn. He’s starting to sound like Pontmercy.

 

Enjolras doesn't fully understand love. But even he knows that Musichetta, Bossuet, and Joly have lots of it. That it is the reason the trio is happier and more at ease as a unit than they ever could be on their own.

 

Bahorel and Feuilly are next. He walks into Eponine’s apartment to find her, Cosette, ‘Chetta, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire crowding around her window one afternoon.

 

“Shhhhhh…. Come here. What do you want?” Eponine had gestured for him to approach. The rest did not so much as look at him.

 

“Hey… I came to return V for Vendetta. You are right… it is a great movie. I really –“

 

“Shhh!” Musichetta pressed her finger to his lips. “Not now. Hot Naked Guy is doing chin-ups!”

 

“Umm… who?” Enjolras looked over to what everyone else found so fascinating. In the apartment directly across the street there is indeed an attractive semi-naked man working out. He was at least wearing boxer shorts, but it didn’t really take away from the creepiness of the situation.

 

“Hasn’t he heard of blinds? Or curtains?” Enjolras looked away.

 

“I pray to God he never does.” Grantaire mumbled.

 

“Guys, shut up! Hot Friend is home.” Eponine giggled. She actually giggled. Like a preteen girl. That was… surprisingly un-Eponine.

 

Then everyone began shrieking and ducking behind the walls. Why was everyone hiding?

 

Enjolras realized too late why everyone is giggling breathlessly. The Hot Naked Friends were waving at him. Oh…. He was going to kill Eponine.

 

When he runs into Hot Friend at the grocery store a few days later he’s tongue tied. And the shock must show on his face because Hot Friend chuckles.

 

“Hey, I’m really sorry about that.  I swear I’m not a pervert… my friends thought your friend is uh, aesthetically-gifted and I just walked in at the wrong moment. I’m really, really sorry.”

 

“Don’t even worry about it, man. Bahorel knows that they watch him sometimes. He likes the attention; loves it, actually. He’s an actor.”

 

He learns that Hot Friend's name is actually Feuilly. He is not only political and well-read, but is also a talented artist. After a long talk about the partitions of Poland, Enjolras could feel that his admiration for Feuilly was growing. And so he decides to introduce him and Bahorel to the rest of the gang.

 

The way Eponine’s jaw drops and she is left speechless when Bahorel winks and asks, “How you doin’?” is enough revenge for Enjolras.

 

The final addition to their group is someone they met through Eponine. His name is Jehan. He is a poet that occasionally recited some of his own poetry at the open mic nights that Combeferre had arranged for local artists at the cafe. Mostly he played guitar and sang. Enjolras hadn’t noticed him much until Combeferre pointed out the way that Courfeyrac is positively on the edge of his chair anytime the blonde walks in.

 

When Eponine notices Courf's obvious reaction to the blonde she makes it her goal to get the shy poet to join their amis. She invites him to sit with the group. By the time it is time for the blushing little poet to get to class Enjolras can tell Courfeyrac is not the only one half in love with Jehan. He couldn’t blame them. Jean Prouvaire is an utterly charming fellow. He is actually a bit pleased when Jehan joins them for coffee the next day, and the next day, and the one after that.

 

Together they are loud. They laugh, eat, sing, and sometimes even cry together (Brokeback Mountain is a lot sadder than any of them thought it would be). They aren’t family… but they are the beginnings of one. As he watches everyone argue over what kind of pizza to order, Enjolras wonders if they make a constellation too. If they are all stars that are better when connected. Maybe. For now it is just easier to think of them as friends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by barricadebabes


	3. The One with the Chick and the Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Courfeyrac and Marius inherit two very unlikely pets, Eponine finally comes to realize just what she's stuck living with, and Jehan fulfills a childhood wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got ridiculously long, I am so sorry! Hopefully you guys like it, I feel like it's kind of boring? I dunno. Think what you will! I just wanted cute Jehan/Courf fluff ok!?

“… Courfeyrac. That’s a chicken.”

Marius Pontmercy has never been so confused in his life. Why his roommate was currently sitting in the middle of their apartment cradling a baby chicken was completely beyond him, and it was one of those times where he felt it was better not to ask, but he knew he had to.

“No, it’s a chick. A baby chicken. Isn’t it freaking adorable?” Courfeyrac gently stroked the baby chicken’s tiny head and clucked at it, grinning like a mad man at the damn thing and only confusing Marius further.

“Right, well… why is it in my apartment?” It was a legitimate question, one no one would have faulted Marius for asking Courfeyrac. The raven-haired man looked at Marius like he was crazy, though.

“I thought you’d love him as much as I do, Marius!” Courfeyrac shot his room mate an accusatory glare as Marius came to seat himself in the barka-lounger next to Courfeyrac.

The redhead bit his lower lip, debating what would be the nicest way to break this to his room mate. They couldn’t keep a chick in the apartment; he knew that if the landlady found out he would kick them out. The building had a strict no pets policy, one Marius didn’t really feel like a chick was worth risking the comfort of his own apartment for. “Courf, I know it’s really cute and… I know you’ve probably been bonding with it all day…” Courfeyrac nodded once and Marius internally rolled his eyes. He was going to break his room mate’s heart, wasn’t he? “But… we don’t have the room for a chick here. And the landlady would kick us out if he found out about it.”

Courfeyrac frowned and looked at the chick, who he’d released and was no waddling around the carpet, chirping occasionally. Marius had to give it to Courf, the little thing was really cute. Where the hell had Courfeyrac even found a baby chicken in the first place? Courf sighed and nodded once. “You’re right…” he murmured to Marius as he picked the chick up and put him back in a brown box that was on the floor beside him. “But… I have a class I need to go to, so… could you take him back? I don’t think I could manage to give him back anyways…” Courfeyrac trailed off and Marius arched one eyebrow, completely intrigued by the sad expression that had taken over Courf’s face as he petted the chick’s head absently. He was genuinely upset about having to give the chick back, Marius could tell, and for half second the redhead felt bad that he was causing that pained expression to come across his friend’s face. “I will miss ya, little buddy,” Courf said mournfully as he stood and shrugged on his leather jacket. “I’ll be back soon,” he said woefully as he headed out the door.

Now the real question was… where the hell was he supposed to take the fluffy little thing?

\----

Eponine couldn’t believe this was happening. The boxes were piling up by the door, two by two then three by three when Marius leant a hand, and her apartment was slowly starting to look smaller and smaller.

“God damnit, Cosette, you have a ton of shit.” Eponine dropped the fifth box at the door and cocked her hip as the blonde panted up the final stair and dropped her own box.

“That… that was the last one,” she blanched. Her face was flushed and red from the many trips up the stairs, yet even in her physical exhaustion Cosette managed to look flawless, like she rocked this look on a daily basis.

Marius, who had a few bags in his hands, tripped up the last few stairs and dropped the bag, looking just as tired as the two girls felt. He seated himself on one of the boxes as his lithe hand ran through his locks, smoothing them away from his face, a slight frown in place on his lips as he sighed and glanced towards the blonde who was busying herself dragging her boxes into the bedroom. Her father had come over earlier to move in her bed and dresser in, and now all that really was left was her clothes.

Eponine, who had disappeared into her room, re-emerged in her diner gear and was grumbling about something under her breath. “I will be back later, gotta go to work. Make yourself at home,” she commented in an off-hand tone as she rifled through the kitchen for a moment and pulled a few things from a drawer. With a quick good bye to the two, Eponine dashed off, looking tired, stressed, and genuinely upset.

“What’s her deal?” Marius asked, frowning slightly as he helped move the boxes into Cosette’s room.

Cosette only shrugged and placed the last bag into her room. “She’s probably just worried about sharing her space, is all,” Cosette mused as she looked over the apartment. It was very well put together and organized, not to mention Eponine had decorated it from bottom to top. It was simple, not especially girly but not lacking that feel of home. Cosette decided early on that she quite liked it. “Now, shoo so I can unpack!” Cosette smirked slightly and gestured towards the door, pushing Marius who sighed.

“Alright, alright I will leave you to unpack… but first, where do you take an unwanted chick?”

\---

Marius spent all afternoon searching across town for a pet shop or somewhere that would take a chick. Every place just grinned and said he was best just selling it back to McDonalds, to which the historian had scoffed and moved onto the next place in line. Finally he’d reached the end of the rope, and found himself heading for the pound.

“Yeah, we’ll take it,” the man behind the desk sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his coat. “But there’s no one in New York City who’s gonna want a chick.”

The redhead eyed the man carefully, almost disdainfully. Personal hygiene isn’t that hard, he couldn’t help but think at the man’s dirty appearance. “Well as long as he has a good home here, I don’t really care if someone wants him or not,” Marius deadpanned as he placed the box with the chick up on the counter. It cheeped contentedly from it’s cardboard cage, and Marius couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret at parting with it.

A look of slightly evil glee had entered the man’s eye then. “Sir, you know what we do to the animals no one wants?”

With wide eyes, Marius shook his head. The man cackled and gestured behind him. “They get put down.”

Marius gulped and asked with an indreculous look. “Are you serious?”

“Of course! There’s no room for all of those damn things in here!”

The box was protectively pulled against Marius’s chest then. “No. Nope, we’ll take him. I mean, I’ll keep him. Thank you, but I can’t do that to this poor little guy.” Marius turned on his heel and was about to exit the wretched building when he heard a call from behind him.

“Maybe you’ll be wantin’ a duck. You know, to keep the chick company? He’s due to go down today, in fact.”

And that was the story of how Marius ended up sitting in the barkalounger with a chick on one knee and a duckling on the other. Both were squabbling happily when Courfeyrac entered the apartment, and Marius spun his chair around at the sound of the door opening. “Oh, good, you’re home.”

Courfeyrac’s jaw fell in disbelief. “I thought you were getting rid of him!?” He cried as he scooped the little yellow bird from off of Marius’s knee and cuddled it against his chest. The bird cheeped happily, it’s little legs flailing as it thrashed against Courfeyrac’s hands.

“Do you know what they do to pets in the pound?” Marius asked, his eyes wide and sad. When Courfeyrac’s expression turned confused, Marius plowed on. “They off them! You know, kill them, death penalty for the poor little things just because no one wants them!” Courfeyrac looked as horrified as Marius had felt when he’d found out. Marius sighed deeply and continued on. “So I obviously couldn’t leave him there, and none of the pet shops would take him. Then the clerk told me they had a duck going down today and he waddled out and just… honked his way into my heart,” Marius moaned as his hands dragged down his cheeks.

A smirk danced over Courfeyrac’s lips as he placed the chick and duck onto the floor. “They won’t be hard to keep, Marius, don’t worry. And they don’t get big like cats or dogs! So when the land lord comes we just stick them in one of our rooms and shut the door, big deal. It will be fine!”

“You’re right,” Marius nodded with a small smile as he fondly stroked the duck.

That was when they were rudely interrupted by a few sharp knocks on the door. Both simultaneously yelled come in, and almost immediately after in bounced a very proud looking Cosette. Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes bright as she stopped in the door way and suspiciously eyed the chick and duck. “What are—“

She was cut off by the beaming Courfeyrac. “The newest editions to our family!” he cried out happily. Cosette opened her mouth to question further but realized it was futile and instead took to bouncing once more.

“I’ve done something for Ponine, as a thank you of sorts!” Cosette waited for the boys to inquire but was met with blank stares. She rolled her eyes and gestured for them to follow her, which both did with reservations. As soon as they entered the apartment, mouths fell open and the boys immediately began to protest.

“Oh my god, Cosette what have you done?” Courfeyrac asked, his voice no better than a wail.

“When does Ponine get home? We have to fix this right now!” Marius said as he blanched. He looked as if he might get sick right there.

Cosette stood in the middle of the re-arranged living room, her face folded into a frown and her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t understand… I just cleaned a bit, moved some things around… I didn’t think she’d –“

“We know you meant well, Cosette, but…” Marius had pulled his phone out of his pocket and was already texting Combeferre and Enjolras. Courfeyrac was starting to rearrange all of the things sitting out on the counter. “Well, Ponine has a weird way of doing things.”

Combeferre had explained to Courfeyrac after he’d become part of the group that Ponine probably did it to make up for the lack of cleanliness and order in her life as a child. He’d said that she wanted to have things nice because they weren’t like that in her earlier years, and this whole OCD neat freak thing was her mind justifying her need for the finer things in life.

Honestly? Courfeyrac just thought there were a few too many wires loose in her brain, but it wasn’t like he had room to talk. When he stumbled across the picture of the apartment, with all of them beaming into the camera from the couch he let out a triumphant ‘A-ha!’ and handed it to Marius. “We need to get it back to that,” Courf said matter-of-factly. Marius snatched up the picture and got to work immediately, pushing some magazines off of the coffee table and into their holder.

\---

It took them exactly three hours, twenty three minutes and fourteen seconds to get things back to somewhat normal. Marius knew because he’d kept time on his wrist watch, which he’d been frequently checking to count down the minutes. Combeferre had shown up about fifteen minutes after the whole endeavor had begun, and Enjolras had followed shortly after. Marius was positive that if those two hadn’t shown up they would never have gotten this all done.

Now Marius was sprawled out on the couch, exhausted from the adrenaline rush caused by his fear and from the heavy lifting he’d been doing. Cosette sat next to him wearing a worried look and absently stroked Marius’s hair in a way that was much more than friendly. Enjolras, who was as much of a neat freak as Eponine, was still fussing over CD titles, trying to remember if Ponine preferred them by year or alphabetical, and Grantaire was rummaging through the fridge muttering about lack of beers in this damned apartment complex. Everyone was on edge for the moment when Ponine would arrive home. Even poor little Jehan, usually so relaxed, had tensed shoulders as he sat on the edge of the chair. His hands were nervously wringing the other in his lap, and Courfeyrac was currently braiding is long golden curls into plaits in hopes of soothing the man.

Then they heard it: the sound of the door opening, foot falls in the hall and… “What the hell are all of you doing in my damned apartment?” Eponine grumbled as she tossed her purse onto it’s rack. Her jacket was unceremoniously thrown onto the rack as well and her shoes were placed into her bedroom before she came into the living room and settled herself into the arm chair next to the sofa. It was as if a sigh of relief was breathed through all of the friends… until Ponine went to prop her feet up on the edge of the coffee table and it was a few centimeters too far away to allow such actions.

“What the…?” It was a chain reaction. Her eyes scanned over the apartment once more, and immediately she let out a small cry. “What happened to my apartment?!” She practically wailed.

Cosette frowned. “I don’t understand… It looks as if it’s back to new!”

Eponine rounded on Cosette but upon spying those big blue eyes reined her anger in slightly. “Everything is wrong,” she pointed out as she listed off things on her fingers and went about fixing them. They were stupidly small things: the picture was hanging crooked, the foot stool was in front of the arm chair rather than beside the coffee table, and the rug was no where near centered in the room. But to Ponine they were important, therefore everyone set to work fixing the things immediately.

\---

The end of the day found everyone exhausted as they huddled into the small living room. Courfeyrac had put on the game show channel earlier while Ponine had rummaged about, putting final touches on things and double-checking everyone’s handiwork. Grantaire had put in the call for Chinese early on, and as soon as there was a knock on the door the man had been ready to pounce. He handed over the money and called everyone to the kitchen, where food was promptly passed out and people went back to their respective seats. Courfeyrac curled up at the end of the sofa and Jehan crossed his legs to seat himself beside the teacher, both with plates in their lap as Jehan previewed a poem he’d been working on for Courf. Marius and Cosette took to the kitchen table, and were currently having a very heated debate about which was better: won-ton or egg drop soup. Everyone knew they only enjoyed the conversation because it meant they were talking to each other. Grantaire and Enjolras were currently caught in a heated argument and Enjolras was trying to shove money into the other man’s hands but Grantaire danced away, laughing tauntingly as he grabbed Enjolras’s eggroll and took off. He plopped himself right down beside Jehan and smirked as Enjolras fumed and seated himself beside Marius, leaving Eponine to take a seat in the arm chair and Combeferre to perch nicely on the foot stool beside her.

With the apartment restored, Ponine finally felt at ease and managed a few smiles as everyone around her squabbled on, occasionally watching the tv, usually discussing amongst themselves. Everyone was silenced, though, by a loud, very audible gasp from Courfeyrac.

“You’ve never ridden a BIKE?!” his voice mirrored his utterly shocked expression and Jehan sunk into the couch as all eyes turned to him.

“My parents weren’t very well off, didn’t see the point of a bike. I mean... I always wanted one, but they always said no. I used to envy all of my friends when they got to go off and ride and I was stuck by myself.” He said with a shrug as he shuffled some rice around his plate. Courfeyrac’s face set in a determined line and Enjolras couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Everyone had seen the way Courfeyrac followed Jehan around a bit like a puppy and the longing kind of looks he gave the poet when he thought no one was looking. Everyone knew about Courfeyrac’s new infatuation except, it seemed, the infatuatee himself – Jehan.

So when Courfeyrac plowed into Enjolras’s apartment early that next morning with a proud look on his face, Enjolras had no doubts it had to do with Jehan.

“I bought him a bike.”

Enjolras looked up from his morning paper, one brow arched and a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. “A bike?” Enjolras mimicked as he arched a brow.

Courfeyrac nodded in excitement and bounced forward on the balls of his feet as he poured himself a cup. “I’m going to teach him how to ride it at the park. Cool, right? You think he will like it?”

As he was known for doing, Enjolras rolled his eyes but smiled kindly. “It’s a very nice gesture, yes,” he agreed. From his room Grantaire laughed.

“You bought him a fucking bike?!” Grantaire called, still cackling. “Oh, Courf, that’s simply marvelous!”

Another eyeroll came from Enjolras as Courf scoffed. “Don’t listen to him, you know how he is in the mornings,” Enjolras stated matter-of-factly. Courfeyrac nodded and headed for the door.

“I’ll tell you how it goes later tonight,” Courfeyrac called over his shoulder.

Enjolras only smirked. “I bet you will,” he sighed.

\---

Central park was packed today, and Courfeyrac momentarily basked in the sun as Jehan wheeled the bike beside him, a wide grin on his face. “Thank you,” the poet said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Courfeyrac responded with a shrug and once more said, “it was nothing.” But it was something, and both of them knew it. Maybe later, once he’d had his lesson, Jehan would really show Courfeyrac how much he appreciated it…

“Right, this looks like a good place to start. So remember everything I told you, ok? Put your leg over the seat, yeah, like that…” Jehan swung his leg over the bike and perched daintily on top of it, one foot holding the bite steadily up, the other positioned awkwardly on the pedal. He looked nervous with one hand clinging the bike’s handles and the other holding on to Courfeyrac’s jacket for dear life.

“We could just… you know, try this another day…?” He asked breathlessly. Courf shook his head.

“It’s so simple, I swear Jehan!” he cooed at the poet who bit nervously down on his lower lip. “And I will be holding on the whole time!”

Jehan inhaled and nodded. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Courf sealed the deal with a small, insignificant kiss to Jehan’s cheek. It caused the blonde to blush furiously. “Now, put both feet on the pedals like that, good, and…” Courf pushed forward, holding onto the bike by the seat and the handle, concentrating on not letting the poet fall. His feet pedaled hesitantly, and after a moment he picked up a bit more speed.

At that point, Courf let go. It wasn’t a few pedals before Jehan realized his safety blanket was gone and he let out a small squeal as he pushed himself from the bike, causing it to collapse as he pointed accusingly towards Courfeyrac. “You swore!” He cried out as he picked up the bike, an insistent frown upon his face.

Courfeyrac’s eyes were wide as he approached the poet. “I just thought you were doing so well, and..”

“I am shocked! Shocked,” Jehan cried as he stuck his nose into the air, held his chin level, and started off down the street, walking the bike beside him like a dog.

It took Courfeyrac’s mind a minute to catch up, and finally he jogged after Jehan and put an arm around his waist. “I’m sorry I let go,” he pleaded softly. Jehan shrugged him off, but Courfeyrac persisted. “No, really, I shouldn’t have done that. And if you don’t want to try again you don’t have to. I just thought… it would be a fun way for us to spend time together.”

Jehan stopped, his stony façade cracking as a bemused grin crossed his lips. “Is that was this is about?” He asked, his blue eyes dancing.

With furrowed brows Courfeyrac gave him a questioning look.

“You did this because you wanted to spend time with me?” Courfeyrac nodded once, and Jehan laughed lightly. “Well all you had to do was ask, silly!” Jehan rolled his eyes at Courfeyrac as he locked the bike up outside of the Musain. “You don’t have to buy me a bike to win me over,” he teased as he ordered himself a tea and Courfeyrac his usual cappuccino. Musichetta smiled at the boys and whisked off. “Seriously. You just had to ask.”

Courfeyrac was brooding as he seated himself on the couch. “I thought you’d appreciate the gesture, you know because you’re so…” he gestured wildly and sighed.

“So what? Materialistic? Spoiled? Stuck up?” Jehan snorted and thanked Chetta graciously for his drink. “Courf, if you want to take me out you just have to ask!”

Immediately Courfeyrac’s warm eyes brightened. “Oh… ok. So… can I take you out?”

Jehan’s blue eyes danced as he sipped. “We shall see,” he murmured mysteriously as he leaned back against the couch.


	4. The One With the Big Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine tries looking for love with Bahorel while Marius and Cosette spend time being domestic together.

Jealousy: It’s half anger and half longing and it’s been beating at Eponine’s heart for weeks now. She normally prides herself on being resilient but watching the way Marius looks at Cosette is too much for her to bear; which is why she distracts herself by flirting with Bahorel.

It begins as playful banter and lingering touches. It doesn’t mean anything at first. It’s just something casual, but soon she finds herself doing it on purpose. She needs to focus on something other than Marius and Bahorel is hot and funny. And best of all, he _notices_ her. She’s sick of feeling invisible. That’s why she lets him wrap his arms around her waist one afternoon. And why she decides to ask him out.

He doesn’t hesitate to accept. “Drinks tonight?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of dinner and a movie. Friday night. Pick me up at 7:00?”

Bahorel squints but doesn’t say no. He says yes and after a moment, smiles at her and announces the news to the gang. Actually, he has no concept of an indoor voice so he ends up announcing their date to the entire café.

“Eponine asked me out!” he throws his fists up in the air.

 The other patrons clap. Their friends just blink up at him and after a moment, Enjolras congratulates him and the rest follow suit, even though Musichetta and Joly both eye her suspiciously before doing so.

When Eponine settles onto the couch, Cosette squeezes her arm and whispers “You guys will make such a cute couple”. Eponine hopes she’s right.

Cosette offers to help her pick out an outfit for the big date but as the girls look through their closets for the perfect ensemble they realize their options are a bit limited.

“Shit. I really need to do some laundry.” Eponine groans as she realizes the dress she wanted to wear is currently at the bottom of her laundry hamper. She reaches for a red one instead. It may be a bit too formal but it will have to do.

Eponine doesn’t like the thought of having dirty clothing but she’s been so busy with her shifts at the diner these last two weeks. By the time she gets home she’s too tired to go back down all the stairs to get to the basement. And she won’t even think of dealing with the ancient laundry machines in there. It’s easier to just ignore the task for another day.

“Let me do it!” Cosette jumps at the opportunity to prove herself a good roommate.  Eponine begins to protest. She’s not sure she likes the idea of someone else touching her dirty clothing but Cosette insists. “Please, Ponine? I’m not busy, I actually wasn’t going to do anything tonight other than maybe invite Musichetta over to watch _Monster Squad_ with me but I have some dirty laundry too so this really is a better idea. And I haven’t even stepped into the laundry room yet. You keep beating me to it. Please, Eponine? Let me help you.”

It would be nice not to have to worry about laundry for another week so she agrees. “Ok. Thank you, Cosette. But maybe I should help you learn how to use the machines? They’re pretty old and take some getting used to.”

“Don’t worry about it; you need to get ready for your date! Besides, if I have any trouble I can just go ask one of the guys for help. Hey, you are going to let me fix your hair, right?” Cosette twirls a strand of Eponine’s hair.

“Um… sure. Thank you.”

“I’m so happy, Eponine. I feel like I finally have the sister I always wanted.” Cosette smiles at her.

Eponine feels as guilt kicking in her stomach. She loves Cosette, she truly does. But she also knows sisters shouldn’t envy one another. And she can’t help but want what Cosette has; a loving father, beauty, a pure heart, and Marius. Cosette deserves a better friend than Eponine.

She’s spared from having to answer Cosette by a knock at the door and the sound of it being opened.

“Eponine?” Joly’s voice calls out

She responds, “In my room!”

Her friend stands in the doorway and beams, “Wow. Look at you. You give Salma Hayek a run for her money in that dress.” He walks over to her and twirls her. “You’re going to knock him dead, Eponine.”

She loves Joly. Completely and utterly loves him.

“Cosette, do you think you could give us a moment?” he asks her roommate politely.

“Oh! Sure… I’ll be in my room if you guys need me.” Cosette’s smile falters a bit but she brightens up again almost immediately. Eponine feels a little sorry for her and tries to correct Joly once Cosette is out of earshot.

“She could have stayed, you know.”

“Nope. Not for this. You and I need to have a talk.” He sits down on her bed. Eponine crosses her arms against her chest and lifts an eyebrow inquiringly.  “Ponine, do you really like Bahorel?”

That’s what this is about. “Sure. He’s a nice guy. Why wouldn’t I?”

“No, I’m asking if you really like him. Because something tells me you’re only doing this to make a certain friend of ours jealous. And that is no way to start a relationship.”

“I am not.” She snaps and Joly gives her a dubious look. “Ok... maybe a little bit. But that’s not the only reason. It’s not even the main reason.”

“What’s the main reason?” he pats the spot on the bed next to him and she sits down and lets out a sigh.

 

“I’m going on this date because I want love, ok? I want to have someone that lights up when I walk into a room and that takes me out dancing and I want great sex.  I am just too busy to go look for it somewhere else and the boy I wanted to have all this with does not want me back but I can find it with Bahorel, or at least I think I can.  He’s not my absolute ideal, but he’s a good friend and we’re attracted to each other. And that feels like a good place to start, Joly.” The words spill out of her mouth quickly and before she can stop herself from sharing too much. The tears that threaten to follow are held back effectively but she does let out a small choking sound at the end of her rant. She looks at the ground because if she makes eye contact right now she will start sobbing.

Joly wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Eponine, you deserve love ok? You deserve to be happy. And if Bahorel can make you happy then I’m happy too. But I just need you to take care of yourself, ok? You’re too careless about falling in love. You jump in before knowing what it is you’re leaping into. And Bahorel… just be sure that you don’t have too many expectations or illusions. Don’t turn him into Prince Charming in your mind.”

“I think I’ll be ok.” She grins. “Trust me. I’ll make sure he’s the right guy first.”

 

 

Marius is on his way out to fetch some fast food since neither he nor Courfeyrac feel like cooking when she sees Cosette trying to drag a large laundry hamper down the stairway.

“Hey!” his nervousness makes his voice come out a little too loud, too eager. Now she probably thinks he’s angry when all he wanted to do was say hi. _Dammit, Pontmercy_. He tries to save himself by adding “Watcha up to?”

But she doesn’t seem to think anything’s wrong. Instead she looks up at him and smiles. _God, he loves that smile_. “Hi, Marius. I’m just trying to get this down to the basement and let me tell you, it’s a lot heavier than I thought it would be.” She sighs and leans her hip against the basket.

“I see. Do you need some help?” he offers.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to be a bother. I can handle this, really.”

“You won’t be a bother!” he exclaims. “I was headed down there, actually.”

“Really? Aren’t you forgetting your clothes?”

Dammit. He laments the fact that he washed his own clothes a few days ago briefly and then an idea strikes.

“Uh- yeah, just wait a minute!” he dashes into his apartment and into Courfeyrac’s room to pick up some clothes to wash. It’s not hard to find them; articles of clothing are strewn all over the floor. Usually this annoys Marius to no end but tonight he’s actually happy his roommate is a slob. He throws as much clothes as he can into a large sack labeled “laundry”.

“What are you doing?” Courfeyrac calls out to him from where he’s loafing on the couch.

Marius drags the bag out of the room and throws a few dollar bills at Courf’s chest. “Order a pizza or something”.

Then he joins Cosette in walking towards the basement. This was going to be a great night.

 

 

 

Bahorel picks Eponine up at 7:28 which irks her a little bit but she decides to let it go. He probably isn’t usually this late, right? She still marks it down as Strike One in her mind.

Strike Two happens when they arrive at the restaurant and have to wait because Bahorel did not make reservations.

She wonders if she should relax a little but she can’t get rid of the weight of worry pressing down on her chest. It’s who she is.

Finally, they sit down to eat. She makes a small attempt at small talk but the more she tries the more she realizes Bahorel is not right for her at all. The conversation is labored until she sees her date chuckling.

“What?” her hand flies to her mouth. Is there something on her face?

“Nothing… but just look at those kids over there.” he ducks his head and tries not to laugh too loud.

Eponine turns around and sees a small little girl with dark hair and a younger blonde boy sitting at a table with some adults that appear to be their family friends. The girl is trying very hard to be a miniature adult; she’s sitting up straight and paying careful attention to mimic her mother’s actions. She sips her drink at the same time her mother does and bursts into forced laughter when a bearded man says something that amuses the entire table. Except the little boy, he chooses instead to glare stonily at the adults and complain often. Eponine and Bahorel continue to glance at him and after a while they witness the boy waiting until he is sure nobody is looking to throw a meatball at the waiter’s head. The man turns around indignantly and scowls at the little troublemaker.

This makes Eponine and Bahorel cackle.

As Bahorel tries to compose himself, Eponine’s mind goes back to another boy with yellow hair and a rebellious nature and another girl with dark hair and a gentle heart.

Bahorel notices her silence. “Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head. “No… they just reminded me of my own siblings.”

He smiles. “Tell me about them.”

And surprisingly, she doesn’t mind sharing this part of her life with him.

In fact, she likes talking to him so much that when he comments on how delicious his steak is she tells him about why she chose to pursue culinary arts as her career.

“I used to cook for Gav and Azelma all the time when I lived at home. It was just the best feeling in the world to make something they liked. Or that would comfort them when we’d had a bad week. I want to do that for people you know? Prepare food that will make them forget their troubles, if only for a little bit.”

“Like the stage.” He tells her about acting. He auditioned for his high school’s production of Grease because he needed the fine arts credit. He didn’t expect to like the feel of leather jackets and stage lights so much.

“I love knowing I can make someone laugh or cry, that I have that ability... It’s something amazing. And the friendships you form during rehearsals are the best I’ve ever had. Well, except for our own little family of course.” He pats her hand.

And maybe it’s at that moment she realizes the real reason this date isn’t going anywhere. Spending time with Bahorel is exactly like what family should feel like. He’s not her dream guy, but that’s ok. She’d rather listen to him tell stories about bad auditions (there are plenty) for now.

 

 

Marius can’t believe his luck. Here he is with the girl of his dreams and he hasn’t embarrassed himself once. He hasn’t said anything awkward as they talked about books and now she’s been rambling about ballet for a while now and he can’t help but feel this is going well. Or so he thinks.

Then Cosette stops in the middle of listing her dream roles and looks over his shoulder. “Marius, I think you should check that machine.”

“Why?” he turns around and immediately wishes he could vanish of the face of the earth.

The laundry machine he’d used for Courf’s clothes is overflowing with suds like an episode of _I Love Lucy_. This is just his luck.

He groans and tries to step towards it without slipping on the foam that’s beginning to spill on to the ground. “I must have put in too much soap. Shit.”

Suddenly he feels something wet hitting the side of his face. Cosette giggles as he wipes the foam off. He barely has time to process what’s going on when she’s smeared another handful of soap suds on his shirt.  He grins and pulls her in close, she shrieks as he gives her a foam beard.

“You’re like a hot Abraham Lincoln now!”

“You think I’m hot?” she raises an eyebrow.

Marius can feel himself blushing. He doesn’t have to say anything though because she chooses that moment to throw more foam his way and hide behind a drying machine.

Oh, this is war.

 

 

When Eponine comes home her roommate is cleaning off what appears to be shampoo from her face and hair. Cosette perks up when she sees her.

“How it’d go?”

And maybe making another good friend in one night is not such a bad idea, so Eponine sits down next to her and tells her exactly how the date went.

 

 

 

The next morning Feuilly is making scrambled eggs when Bahorel walks out of his room, yawning and stretching.

“How does Eponine like her eggs?”

“Um, I have no idea. Why?”

“Can you be anymore clueless? It’s to make her breakfast of course.”

 “Oh! She’s not here.” Bahorel sits down at one of the stools and places his elbows on the counter.

Feuilly’s look is one of disbelief. “You went out with a girl and didn’t bring her home? I’m impressed.”

Bahorel’s gaze turns towards the window across the street. “She’s not like that. She’s terrific… but it’s not like that at all.”

If the other man is more than a little pleased to hear this, he doesn’t show it. 


End file.
